


Timer

by annaloverofarendale



Category: Arrested Development
Genre: Alternate Universe - TiMER, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 09:55:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5412434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annaloverofarendale/pseuds/annaloverofarendale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soulmate AU- Gob's timer has thirty one years to go. Is it going to be worth the wait?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Timer

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays!

The Bluths were a nice, clean, well-bred Soulmate family, thank you very much. Lucille and George Sr. had met when their timers went off, jumped into bed together immediately and gotten married soon after. The fact that they hated each other half the time not withstanding, they were undeniably soulmates.

So, of course, their children knew that when they turned sixteen, they’d have their own timers installed. Not everyone got timers, but they were still very popular with the wealthy elite, the ones who could afford to hunt down their soulmate with private eyes and bribes. 

George Oscar Bluth was supposed to get his at sixteen anyway. But some business deals had gone south at the wrong moments, and besides, George and Lucile were pretty sure Gob was going to be one of those sad sons of bitches whose timer stayed blank forever, and who cares about rushing towards embarrassment? But when Michael, precious Michael, turned sixteen, Gob was invited along to get his timer done too. For efficiency’s sake.

Gob needled Michael the entire drive there, until he agreed to let Gob go first, as the eldest son should. The clinic was sterile white, which didn’t make his nerves settle down any better. The wait was long enough that Gob started wondering if he should have refused to get one like Lindsay. She called the timer system barbaric, even though when she was younger, she loved the stories about prince charmings and the perfect moment of mutual timers beeping when a young soulmate couple met for the first time.

The doctor pulled up his sleeve so roughly, Gob was too distracted to notice the needle the nurse slipped in. Suddenly, his whole arm was numb. They screened it off, they always did, no one liked to see the wires being woven in. When they finally pulled away, the nurse, who was rather bangable, gave Gob a sympathetic look. His heart dropped. It was going to be blank, he just knew it-

Gob’s timer wasn’t blank.

But what it flashed wasn’t that much better either. 31:53:11:48:27. 31 years, 53 days, 11 hours, 48 minutes, 27 seconds until he’d meet his perfect match. 

31 years until someone loved him. 

Stupid Michael’s timer said 2:203:4:23:09. Two years. Well, practically three years, but still. It wasn’t fair, because Michael got everything, he always got everything.

And George Sr. already loved him. He was beaming in the lobby, slapping Michael on the back. Gob did get a brief “glad to hear you won’t be alone forever” from Lucille, at least.

Gob left the celebration early to go smoke on the rooftop. He fell asleep watching the faint glow of his timer tick down seconds and minutes. Only thirty one years to go.

~~~

Michael’s wedding to Tracy was as lame as Gob expected. The illusion didn’t go like he’d hoped, but how was he supposed to know Tracy had practically doused herself in flammable hairspray? But they were a soulmate match, and he wasn’t supposed to bother them on their special day, so guess who got blamed?

Gob sulked in the corner of the thankfully open bar, nursing his fifth? Or was it sixth? Pink fruity cocktail. His date had stormed off once the ceremony was done, something about fire “not being in her contract”. It didn’t matter, everyone could tell she was an escort. 

Michael smiled stupidly at Tracy as they did their stupid first dance to a stupid song that they didn’t even let Gob help pick out. Gob made eye contact with a busboy with a really rather nice ass.

Twenty seven years to go. 

~~~

George Sr. had yelled again. Something about misplacing documents and how Gob was a total liability to the company, and how everyone would be happier if he just got lost. Or something like that. Gob wasn’t really listening.

He did decide that now would be the perfect time to take that vacation to the Caribbean, you know, just because. So now his bags are packed and he’s at his girlfriend's doorstep, begging her to come along.

“Please, Marta, this will be, like, so much fun!” Gob gave his best seductive face too. “We can even do that thing you’re always begging me to do.”

“That’s you who is begging me!” Marta pouted. “Gob, I can’t go, I have work. I’m sorry.”

“Fine! You’ll be sorry!”

After Gob paid the strippers, he walked onto the balcony and stared at the lights down below. No one had called. No one was looking for him. Which was fine, because, really, who wanted to be found?

Six years, ten days, three hours, forty five minutes and six seconds to go.

~~~

Michael had tried to act all buddy buddy. “You should try and go somewhere romantic tomorrow night. Go somewhere where you’ll run into a nice girl.” He recommended a suit (ridiculous, Gob had better taste in suits than Michael, always had better taste in suits than Michael) and an Italian restaurant. And implied strongly that Gob should be as little like Gob as possible.

Gob just nodded, took a couple shots, and went off in the opposite direction.

He didn’t run away. Everyone knows you can’t run away from the tick tock of the soulmate countdown.

But, then again, if anyone could, it would be Gob Bluth. So maybe it was worth a shot.

Gob ended up at a club he hadn’t seen before, but there was a magician performing that night, and so even if everything else was a bust, he would have seen some half decent magic at least. 

Two minutes, thirty eight seconds to go.

~~~

“Hey!”

This short, spikey man popped out of nowhere. His eyes are the brightest blue Gob’s ever seen. There’s glitter on his suitcoat and he’s wearing eyeliner. He gives Gob a frown that’s clearly just a smile in disguise. 

“You asshole, I’ve been waiting for you forever!”

And Gob listens to the beep of his timer, perfectly in sync with this person- this guy- his soulmate.

“Same.”


End file.
